


Lab notes

by lemonadesoda



Series: And I don't think you hate this as much as you wish you did [6]
Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Dadtcher, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Like so much, Oh the Humanity AU (A Hat in Time), Pseudoscience, Slice of Life, Technobabble, minor character injury, minor head trauma, moondad, oth!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28237938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonadesoda/pseuds/lemonadesoda
Summary: At its heart, science is the art of systematic, documented observation from which conjecture on complex, often intangible phenomena can be made.
Relationships: Bow Kid & Snatcher (A Hat in Time), Hat Kid & Snatcher (A Hat in Time), Moonjumper & Snatcher (A Hat in Time)
Series: And I don't think you hate this as much as you wish you did [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999939
Comments: 18
Kudos: 91





	Lab notes

**Author's Note:**

> Okay new record for hardest fic to write in this series. I think it's come together though. Sorry for the hazardous lab practices and timey-wimey bullshit.

> _ How many words does it really take to make a change? How many fights is it gonna take to convince what joy could bring?...The greatest things you’ll ever know are invisible. _
> 
> _ -Zara Larsson, "Invisible" _

Snatcher is in the middle of stirring a pot of instant oats when Bow Kid slides into the kitchen. She pauses in the doorway for a beat, then tip-toes forward and peeks up at him just above the countertop. The softest “umm” barely makes it through the sound of simmering, and Snatcher pretends not to notice, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“I have a question,” she says. Finally.

“Yes, I made enough for you two,” Snatcher says, giving her a sidelong look. “You skipped breakfast again, didn’t you?”

She lightly drums her fingers on the counter. “Um, yeah, but that wasn’t my question.”

He pauses in the middle of getting out three bowls. Huh. Well, he was sort of right. He tilts his head at her to prompt her, but continues putting their meal together.

“So, do you still remember how to do alchemy stuff?”

“Uhh.” Snatcher frowns as he sprinkles some sugar into the oats. “Probably, but I don’t have any of my equipment so it doesn’t really matter. Why?”

Bow Kid points at one of the bowls. “Add more,” she says. “Hattie likes it sweeter.”

He purses his lips, but shakes another spoonful into the designated dish.

“More.”

Another half-spoonful.

“Hmm, little mor-”

“No. I am not cleaning her boot prints off the walls tonight.”

She scrunches her nose. “What?”

“Nevermind.” But he still doesn’t add any more sugar. He’s seen Hat Kid on a sugar rush. Like a lavender tornado. “What about alchemy, kid?”

“Oh yeah, so we’re trying to fix the Time Piece right? And we figured out it went crazy because when you crushed it, it damaged the timestream calibrator which keeps all the timelines in relative equilibrium, and we have to fix that first, but in order to stabilize it we also have to repair the casing, but you crushed it so it’s all shattered, so we won’t be able to contain the timelines unless-”

Snatcher holds his hands up, making a brisk slicing motion with one of them to curtail the flood of jargon. “Kid. Kid! Yikes.  _ What _ does any of that mean in real life human language, and  _ what _ does that have to do with me?”

Bow Kid pouts at him. “I was getting there.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Maybe it would just be better to show you…”

He draws back just as he’s about to hand off her bowl. “Eh, I don’t know, kid. Your sib is always at my throat whenever she’s working.”

Bow Kid reaches forward to take their breakfasts. “Uh, yeah, ‘cause you were always getting on our case about the Time Piece before.” She pours a hearty serving of chocolate chips into both bowls. He’s glad he put his foot down on the sugar--this is just overkill. “And you were pretty mean when it first happened. Like you did yell at her multiple times.”

Snatcher’s shoulders sag. “Okay, okay! I get it.”

“But she already knows I’m asking you for help, so it’ll probably be fine.”

That “probably” is doing a lot of heavy lifting, Snatcher thinks, but he follows her to the workshop anyway, taking bites of his oatmeal as he walks. Only after he’s left the kitchen, he realizes he never had the chance to make himself a cup of tea. He grimaces to himself as he walks down the hall.

As soon as he enters their workshop, the ever-present residue of smoke and ozone burns his lungs, and he hacks the moment it makes contact. Hat Kid is hunched over a lab bench, heavy-duty goggles obscuring half her face as she fixates on a device that forces Snatcher to shield his eyes until they adjust to its brightness.

Bow Kid hands him a pair of similar goggles. “You have to wear these in the stasis field, or else you’ll go blind.”

“Stasis field?” Snatcher puts them on, forced to abandon his bowl to do so. It’s probably going to go cold by the time he’s done with this.

“Yeah, we can only work on the timestreams when they’re in containment, otherwise it’ll turn into a rift, and that’ll make all our ship equipment fritz,” Bow says, leading him to Hat Kid’s table. The goggles darken most of the room, except for a shimmering radius around Hat Kid. When he walks through the threshold, the hairs on his arms and neck rise, his skin buzzing with the power that radiates from the device.

“Okay, this is the Time Piece.” Bow Kid holds her hand out toward it.

“What’s left of it,” Hat Kid mutters.

Snatcher opens his mouth to snark back, but Bow sharply waves her hand in front of her face and shakes her head at him, so he grits his teeth and bites his tongue.

“I think it’ll be easier to explain to him if he can see it,” Bow Kid whispers to Hat. “Okay. So there are millions of individual timelines all in one timestream, and if they all flow in sync, then time moves normally, right? And so-” Off she goes, with barely a breath in between.

Snatcher blinks rapidly, though the goggles likely obscure it. He wracks his brain for what he can remember from the physics texts he had been reading on their holo-tablet before Bow let him read proper books. Whatever this is isn’t just technology. This is magic. These alien kids harness magic, and they use it to bend reality. Snatcher’s eyes narrow with each passing minute as the explanation stretches on. They can’t even explain all the elements of how it works! Apparently, the timestream responds to consciousness and memory? How does that even make sense?

“Memory is just encoded time. Everything has memory, not just people. That’s how rift worlds form, even when the Time Piece doesn’t hit a living creature. The whole planet has memory! Even the trees and rocks and water,” Bow says, voice pitching up in her enthusiasm.

That’s all well and good, but… “Kid, I’m literally in tears.  _ Why am I learning all this? _ ”

“Oh! Well like I said, we need to reset the timestreams in the Time Piece, but it won’t hold unless we seal it, so we need something to fuse the shield glass back together.”

Snatcher groans. He’s been here for half an hour learning mind-melting facts about time magic, and it all comes down to: “Glue. You want me to make you glue.”

“Not  _ glue, _ weren’t you listening?” Hat Kid says. “It can’t just stick the broken parts together, it has to refuse them so it’s all one piece.”

“I don’t get it.” He presses his hand against his forehead. “Haven’t you two fixed broken Time Pieces before? Something about those rift things?”

“Normally, yeah, we could just invert a rift to rewind the Time Piece to its original state, but because the timeline related to you is out of alignment with the rest, if we just let it go to rift now, it would think  _ this _ is your current time-state and leave you like this permanently.” Hat Kid sets her tools down on the table and sighs. “So I have to do it all by hand.”

“Oh.” Snatcher still doesn’t understand all the mechanisms, but it paints a clearer picture of how complicated this has all been for them. He remembers the time he called her useless for not knowing how to fix it and rubs the backs of his hands. And now, they need  _ his _ help, which only knocks the wind out of him more that this is going to be hard, and he could be stuck like this for a long time or even forever if  _ he _ fails to deliver. The pressure he had put on them originally turns around to bite him back.

“So...do you think you can make something?” Bow Kid asks.

“I can help a little, but,” Hat Kid says, then tightens her jaw as if she’s fighting to get out the next bit. “I don’t really know how to synthesize material from scratch,” she manages with clear effort.

“Me either,” says Bow, giving Hat Kid a pat on the shoulder. “We never had to do this before.”

Great, more guilt. He really royally screwed himself with this one. Should’ve left the damn Time Pieces alone. “I-okay. I guess I have to try, don’t I?” After all, the two of them really have no obligation to him. Time to clean up the mess he made.

_ Note to self: _

_ -Bow still doesn’t speak up _

_ -Hat doesn’t admit weakness well. That’s fair. _

* * *

Snatcher makes another rare visit back to Subcon to fetch his equipment and immediately a part of him settles once his feet touch the natural earth. It’s still surreal, experiencing his forest as a mortal--seeing its vastness, falling up into the semi-permanent night enforced by smoke and blizzard. There’s a new angle to it, the scents and sounds, the feel of the air all press in around him, more insistent and tangible now. Though the undercurrents of magic and energy that pulsed through the roots no longer call to him, there is no mistaking it as home. Again, he aches for it, and the task ahead of him looms all the larger now that he’s revisiting what’s at stake.

The lab is bigger than he remembers. Why did he have to make everything so oversized? Snatcher drags a hand down his face. Stupid.

“Well, shapechanging isn’t exactly my specialty, but I can do my best to resize things,” Moonjumper says, floating behind him as Snatcher drearily scans the slightly-too-tall benches and vials.

“I mainly need ingredients and notes,” he mutters, mind already halfway in a daze.

“Yeah, we could buy normal versions of this stuff,” Hat Kid says as she fusses with a burner, turning it on and off again repeatedly.

“Kid, don’t break my stuff, I want to use it again someday.”

“I’m not gonna break it.”

“I give it a minute,” Snatcher says under his breath.

“At least it sounds like there has been progress on the repair,” Moonjumper says as they help him sort through his stash. They both have Snatcher’s books scattered on the floor in one section of the lab, each flipping through the contents to determine their relevance. “Bow has updated me somewhat on her visits, but for a while, it seemed the little ones didn’t even know where to start.”

“Yeah, and it could all be for nothing if I’m too hopeless to put the last piece together,” Snatcher says, his fingers curling into fists before he realizes. He glances over his shoulder to check that the kids are still distracted playing hot potato with a flask. The last thing he wants is for them to be all concerned and start asking too many prying questions.

Moonjumper looks him over. “You’ve spent centuries teaching yourself new things. I’m sure you can figure this one out too.”

“But if I can’t?” he says in a low voice. To suddenly face the rest of his life three hundred years out of sync? The life he’d long since given up on? No...no it’s too much. He can’t go back to that, it’s  _ too late _ to go back, this is not  _ him _ anymore-

“Snatcher. Hey,” Moonjumper murmurs, just enough to call him back to the present. “We’re not there yet. We’ll figure it out.”

One knuckle at a time, Snatcher uncurls his fists. Right, just don’t think about it. Stay focused on getting things done. A glass shatters in the background, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

“That was nothing!” Hat Kid announces from across the lab. Moonjumper lifts their head to give them a stern look.

If he wants to evade their suspicion, he really should fire off some snark about it, but he’s still too fixated on the sinking realization that he could truly be stuck this way until he dies of literally anything. As if on cue, Moonjumper rises and floats toward the kids.

“Alright you two, let’s clean this first,” they say, buying Snatcher a bit more time to compose himself. He ends up focusing on his breathing, since his mind is currently a hurricane that he can only ride out. Behind him, the kids sweep up broken glass, which doesn’t particularly help keep his attention away from what’s stressing him out in the first place.

Eventually, he manages to get a rein on his physical reactions at least, and Moonjumper returns in time for the two of them to finish gathering up what he needs.

“Are you going to be alright?” they ask quietly, pulling him aside before the kids notice.

Snatcher takes a deep breath. “Eventually. I think,” he says.

“I can stop by later,” Moonjumper says.

“Yeah...maybe.”

The instant they warp back to the ship, Snatcher longs for the comfort of the mulchy air and the crunch of leaves under his feet. He’s still an explosion of anxiety contained by a thread, barely aware of what he’s saying as he instructs the kids on where and how to set up a workspace. Once that’s done, he excuses himself, locks himself in the bathroom and leans back against the door.

It’s a great place for a breakdown apparently. At least he doesn’t risk the kids barging in. He stands there for a while, sits with all the implications of failure. He glances off toward the sink, which is a mistake because he can see his reflection from there. Snatcher gives himself a baleful stare.

“You. I cannot be you for the rest of my life.” He can’t rule Subcon like this. Moonjumper can’t look after it forever. There’s only a matter of time before  _ she _ realizes the protections have faded and her search for her missing prince continues. Even without that issue, he can’t live on a spaceship with two alien kids. He doubts  _ they _ have any permanent intentions for Earth, what with their life of intergalactic adventure. So Snatcher has to, what? Find a regular house and live like a regular human in some random city? Once upon a time, that was all he would have asked for, but it’s too late now.

He slides down along the door and tucks his knees up. It isn’t fair. Why give him a chance for a normal human life only now, when he’s no longer the sort of person who  _ can _ live that life anymore?

_ Note to self: _

_ -Call Moonjumper _

* * *

It isn’t that he’s forgotten the art of alchemy--it’s that he’s always supplemented it with his own magic, even just to stoke the flames with a flick of his wrist or levitating vials from across the room. Snatcher examines a sample shard of the Time Piece glass under a lens, taking notes on its microscopic properties and structure. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen--certainly not ordinary glass. Flecks of crystalline gold and iridescent blue are latticed into its internal structure, which Hat Kid tells him are part of what allows it to contain the flow of time. This is what he’s going to have to replicate somehow with the materials provided by Earth where time is a social construct, not a substance. He leans his head into his hand, once again cornered by the potential permanence of a fully human future.

Over the surface of his lab bench, Bow Kid’s curls pop into view, shortly followed by her goggled eyes. She hangs out there while he beams a light through the glass and observes how it scatters. He runs it through heat, then cold, then starts testing its reactions to different substances he brought back from his inventory in Subcon. Still, she watches.

Snatcher pushes his goggles up to his forehead and lifts an eyebrow at her. “Kid, you know how I feel about reading over my shoulder.”

“But I’m not reading,” she protests.

“I mean I don’t like being watched.”

“Ohh.” Lingering silence. “Like at all?”

“Huh? Why? What are you watching for?”

“I dunno, I just wanted to know what you’re doing. Since we didn’t learn too much about this in our trainings.” She walks around the bench to his side and stands next to him, leaning into his space to get a better view.

Snatcher clears his throat. “Uh, well, I’m trying to figure out what this thing is made of and how it reacts to other things so I can figure out how to manipulate it.”

Bow Kid bobs her head, then turns to him as if expecting him to continue.

“You really didn’t learn anything like this? Seems pretty important when you control time.”

“We know how the Time Pieces work, not how they’re made,” Hat Kid says from her own workbench, her voice reverberating slightly from the stasis field that surrounds her. “They taught us whatever we needed to pilot ships.”

“What kinda society has a couple of kids flying all over the galaxy anyway?” Snatcher says, though mostly to himself.

“Across galaxies, actually,” Bow Kid pipes in.

“My mistake,” he grouses.

“Not all kids get to do what we do,” Hat says, a hint of pride in her voice. “We spent our whole lives around the Time Company, so we’re just as good as grown ups.”

Snatcher twists around in his chair to look back at her. “Sure, but what about your families? Shouldn’t they be, I don’t know, chaperoning? You  _ are _ still kids, you know.”

Even under the goggles, it’s evident that Hat Kid’s brow furrows. “ _ Bow _ is my family.”

“So no…no parents then?”

They both shake their heads in unison. “Tim the Time CEO took care of us a lot growing up, but he’s not really our  _ parent _ ,” says Bow Kid, lifting a thoughtful finger to her chin. “He’s always really busy, so we kind of bounced around to a lot of different people. It was easier to just figure out how to take care of ourselves.”

Ooh...he’s made a lot of bad-taste jokes in hindsight. It does explain a lot about their haphazard lifestyle, though--why they excel so much at surviving, but leave the details to wilt by the wayside. The revelation winds itself into his chest like a creeping vine and jams the beginnings of roots into his heart. He feels this happen in the moment, but his mind sorts it in with the rest of his anxiety, so he does not give it much more awareness. The kids don’t seem to bothered talking about it, but it’s awkward to try and continue the conversation after that, so Snatcher resumes trying to see if one of his acid concoctions can dissolve the Time Piece fragment.

“What are you doing now?” Bow Kid whispers, once again perching her chin on the edge of the workbench.

Snatcher heaves a sigh. “Okay, kid, am I just going to have to narrate everything I’m doing right now?”

She gives him her politest smile. “Yes!”

“Agh. Fine.” As he continues, he explains the properties of each potion and what they’re made of. Sometimes the glass fragment has no reaction, and other times, it changes color, or the potion foams or sparks, and he rambles his theories for why that particular reaction triggered. After a while, Bow pulls up a stool next to him to get a better view. After another while, Hat Kid wanders over from her work and joins the audience. Frequently, they interrupt him with questions. By the end of the day, his throat is burning from all the talking and the goggles have pressed lines into his face.

“Alright, enough. I’m done,” he says. Now he gets why they didn’t do this every day. His brain is mush and so are his hands after all that fine motor coordination. A slight quiver runs through his fingers, and it occurs to him that he hasn’t eaten the entire time and neither have the kids. Snatcher swerves toward the kitchen. “I’m starving.”

Cooking Cat left them a pot of soup this time. The two kids sit on the counter, watching the soup bubble as Snatcher stands in front of it, eyes half-lidded and the ladle in his hand dripping onto the stovetop. His stomach growls, and the kids giggle at him, and he can’t even muster the energy to be sarcastic about it. Instead, he wades through his molasses thoughts. Do they always miss meals when they’re caught up in work? Now that he’s joining them, he’s going to have to pay more attention, but he’s pretty sure the answer is yes. And no parents. That sticks like a bur in his foggy brain. Who, besides that Tim fellow maybe, is there to wait for them to come home?

Snatcher blinks hard. The hunger must be getting to his head. What even was that train of thought?

But the thoughts continue as he eats, and it’s perhaps because he’s tired that they wander into that dangerous territory he normally avoids. Who is there to patch them up when they’re hurt? Who is there to comfort them when they don’t know what to do? Who is there to teach them how to grow up?

A long time ago, he used to think about these things, and a long time ago, he buried them. But so many things are resurfacing these days, and it’s getting harder to blame it all on instinct. Once they’re all finished, he puts the dirty dishes in the sink. Someone’s going to have to do those later.

Probably him.

_ Note to self: _

_ -Dishes _

_ -No parents… _

* * *

“Okay, now just add a little--careful!” Snatcher hovers over Bow Kid as she tips a flask into a clear solution. After days of pestering, the two have managed to convince him to teach them more about what he’s doing, and he’s relented because the alternative is not getting anything done--or any peace--while they amp up their attempts at persuasion exponentially.

Bow Kid’s tongue sticks out in concentration as a dribble of liquid slides toward the lip of the flask and gathers there. She leans it a little more to get it over the edge and--“Not that much!”

A cloud of green poofs out of the solution which is now glowing neon. Hat Kid tumbles off her chair, knocking it over in a clatter as she howls with laughter. “Your faces!” she gasps.

Snatcher grabs a cloth and wipes the sticky green film that has splattered him. Bow still holds the flask, eyes wide from the minor explosion. Well, at least the lesson has illustrated the importance of goggles, if nothing else. He hands Bow the cloth and watches her struggle to clean off the substance before sighing, nearly putting a hand on his head before catching himself, and nudges her toward the bathroom. Hat Kid tows after them, still doubled over laughing.

He grimaces as he scrubs Bow Kid’s face. Hat stands next to them, dutifully handing over soap and new washcloths while still snorting every time she stifles another giggle. When Snatcher tries to glare at her, she loses it again, collapsing into a pile of towels, and he belatedly realizes his face is still green too, which probably kills all intimidation.

“Okay, you need to wash your hair out.” Snatcher pokes Hat Kid with his foot. “You think you can catch your breath long enough to be helpful?”

Hat swats him away. “Yeah, course I can.”

Bow Kid leans her head back against the tub so they can rinse the remainder of the residue out and shampoo it. Amidst the sound of water, Snatcher hears a sniffling sound that he initially thinks is Hat Kid giggling until he sees the look on her face and follows her gaze to Bow who is rubbing her eyes. Snatcher cuts the water.

“Bow, what’s wrong? I wasn’t making fun of you, I promise,” Hat says.

Bow Kid sits up, her curls still laden with conditioner and dripping water onto her shoulders and the bathmat. “No, I’m okay.” She keeps her head down, still wiping at her face.

“Uh. Should I go?” Snatcher asks.

“No…” Bow says, grabbing for his hand. He freezes when she catches him.

“O-okay.” For lack of anything better to do, he leans over to swipe a towel from the rack and covers her shoulders to keep her blouse from getting further soaked.

Bow Kid continues sniffling while he and Hat wait. Snatcher wracks his brain. What is he supposed to do here, exactly? He feels like an intruder in a private moment, but she’s still clinging to his hand, with Hat Kid holding her other. Should he just stand here? Should he...should he  _ comfort _ her? Would that be weird? But she  _ is _ holding his hand.

Before he can get too tangled upstairs, Bow Kid speaks up in a wobbly voice. “Sorry I made a mess. Are you-” she sniffles, “-not going to teach us anymore?”

“Oh. Is that all, kiddo?” His laugh has a nervous pitch to it. He crouches down and pokes her forehead. “Heh, don’t tell me you’re giving up already? Not after all the pestering you two did to get me started.”

“No, I’m not,” she says, a shaky smile returning to her face as she shoves his finger away.

“Yeah, didn’t think so. Don’t let all my talking go to waste. It’s a lot of work.”

“I don’t believe that,” Hat Kid says, smirking.

“But it is, especially now that I have vocal chords that can blow out.”

“It’s your fault for trying to still be all shouty all the time.”

“How else am I going to hear myself over your squawking?”

“I don’t squawk!”

“What was that just now?”

“That wasn’t!”

Bow Kid covers her mouth as she starts laughing in the midst of their banter. Snatcher grins. “That’s better. Crying is awkward.” He clicks on the showerhead again. “Come on, kid. Your hair is still soapy.”

Bow obliges and lets the two of them finish washing her up. He throws a fresh towel over her and then pushes the two of them toward the door. “Okay, my turn. Everybody out.”

_ Note to self: _

_ -Not ready for hands on lessons... _

_ -Bow still has confidence issues _

* * *

The three of them find a steady work schedule, and Snatcher starts to find a new rhythm with his brewing. There are rules. One, they don’t work multiple days in a row. Two, he doesn’t work without eating, because the one time he tried, he nearly passed out, and the kids end up joining him for his meal breaks, so they end up getting fed more regularly too. Three, they need to leave him at least two hours of the work day uninterrupted, or else he really is at risk of never changing back ever again. And informally, four, Hat Kid is no longer allowed to brew explosives of any kind after the attempted Brewing Hat Modification Incident. Snatcher refuses to take any further criticisms for the kitchen fire after that.

He may be without magic right now, but the potions make for a modest substitute, as he can still infuse magical effects solely from the properties of the ingredients. There is still a long way to go with the solution to the problem of reforging the Time Piece, though.

The prolonged contact with the kids teaches him other things. They work as a team, frequently complementing each other’s skill sets. Bow tends toward the theoretical--she is the one who figured out what went wrong with the Time Piece in the first place and how to attack the rebuilding. Hat is the engineer and more often than not is the one actually moving and welding the physical parts together, though the two tag-team the labor nearly as often. Both of them are equally prone to getting sidetracked. Snatcher is frequently drawn out of his concentration as he realizes the incessant background noise is them lying on the floor with their legs propped up against the side of the table and chatting.

Today, though, he has some quiet. The kids have gone off to the Alpine Skyline to fetch some raw materials. It’s a little unsettling now that the ship is his only company. They shouldn’t be long though. Surely, by now, he can handle a few hours of alone time just fine. Hopefully Hat Kid’s theory is right and the irradiated ore that carries the dimension-bending energy from the so-called Twilight Bell might have a sufficiently similar signature to the components of the Time Piece glass that he can work with it.

Out on the bridge, he hears the teleported thrum, and resists the urge to gasp, “Finally!” Snatcher tosses his tools onto the table with a clatter and strides out of the workshop.

“Snatcher!” Hat shouts the instant she sees him in the doorway.

His surprise becomes alarm as his mind warps back to the day Hat Kid came back singed and limping, except this time the scenario is reversed. Bow Kid sits in a slump, half propped up by Hat, and she rubs her head, eyes squeezed shut. He’s by their side in a flash.

“Kid? What happened? I swear, you two, every time…” Carefully, he holds Bow Kid upright, prying her hand away from her head to assess the injury.

“Those jerky ninja cats stole her bow, and she fell!” Hat Kid babbles. “I think she hit her head pretty hard, I couldn’t catch her in time, and she hasn’t talked to me this whole time!”

“Whoa, kiddo, slow down! It’ll be fine.” He doesn’t really know that, but it comes out anyway, and suddenly he finds himself committed to making sure it’s true. “Just-just hang on. Hold her up.”

He steps a few paces to the control panel and makes a familiar call. “Moon, can you come up? Bow’s hurt. I...I could use a hand.”

Moonjumper’s face turns serious instantly. “I’ll be right there.” And soon enough, they are.

They click their tongue at the sight, cradling Bow Kid, who is still conscious but still not responsive either. She grumbles at being picked up. Hat Kid clings to their arm as she follows them to the bedroom.

Snatcher tries to remember watching Cooking Cat give first aid. He tries to remember what it was like being injured in the past. He was human once, right? Wait, no, they’re not even human. Does his knowledge even apply? After all those books he went through, why didn’t he read anything about this? He grips his head on both hands. No, stay calm, Hat Kid’s already freaking out. He can’t freak out too. He enters the bedroom a few steps behind the rest of them.

Moonjumper lays Bow Kid on the bed and tucks her in. She’s holding her head again. A memory from Hat Kid’s injury percolates up. “Ice!” he announces, and runs out the door. He gathers up a bag of ice cubes and a towel to wrap it in and sprints back to the bedroom. In the interim, Hat Kid has deployed that same bio-scanner that she used to help him with his sprained hand.

“She has a concussion,” Moonjumper informs him as he returns. “The ice pack is a good idea.”

“Great,” he replies faintly. He kneels down next to the bed and gently holds the ice pack to her head. Hat Kid paces behind him, frantically tapping on her tablet.

“It says here they can be really bad,” she cries. “What if it’s really bad?”

“Oh my dear,” Moonjumper says, wrapping an arm around her. “The scanner said it isn’t severe. Here, let me.” They convince her to let go of the tablet. “I think this will only worry you. She’ll be alright, I’m sure she will.”

On the bed, Bow Kid finally cracks her eyes open.

Snatcher leans forward. “Hey kiddo. Can you hear me?”

She shifts her head an increment in his direction, and only his proximity allows him to see her give the tiniest of nods.

“Still not up for talking, huh?”

Tiniest headshake.

“Okay, that’s fine.”

Moonjumper read from the bio-scanner again, scrolling through the holographic text. “It sounds like the most important thing is for her to stay awake but rested. And,” they peer at the screen, “no loud noises or stimulating visuals.”

Hat Kid calls out a command and the ship dims the bedroom lights. Bow lets out a small hum of contentment.

“That better?” Snatcher asks.

“Mm,” she affirms.

He sits there until his arm aches from holding the ice up for half an hour. Moonjumper brings a glass of water and helps Bow Kid sip from it, while Hat Kid crouches next to Snatcher at the bedside. Once the ice pack is done, there isn’t much else to do but let Bow rest, occasionally asking her how she’s feeling. Not long after, she manages to speak.

“ ‘m okay. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I was too slow,” Hat Kid whispers.

“ ‘s okay,” mumbles Bow.

“No, it’s not!” Hat Kid starts, but remembers to keep the noise down and subsides, but she can’t seem to stay still for very long and takes up pacing again. It reminds Snatcher of himself a bit.

She paces until she exhausts herself and drops down onto one of the pillows, holding her chin up with her hands. Moonjumper offers to relieve Snatcher of his vigil, and only then does he realize he’s been kneeling at the bedside for an hour, and he can’t unbend his stiff knees for several seconds. He takes the soggy ice pack with him to refresh it, but pauses at the sight of Hat Kid, hunched off to the side.

She’s making a valiant effort not to cry, but that trembling lip isn’t going to dam the tide much longer. Snatcher swoops down and scoops her up, exchanging nods with Moonjumper before hurrying out of the room just in time for Hat Kid to start wailing into his shoulder.

He carries her across the bridge to the opposite end and sits down with her against the wall. There, he rides out the waves of tears and once again wonders what he’s doing. All he knows after all this time spent with her is that it must be pretty bad for Hat Kid to be crying in front of him. Their similarities occur to him again, since he too goes to absurd lengths to avoid crying in front of the kids--he’s done enough of that as it is.

What would his old self say when confronted with a crying child? Probably something stupid like “There, there. I’m here for you.” Well, Snatcher is  _ not  _ saying that.

“Alright, who’s soul do I have to obliterate to make you feel better?” Yeah, okay, that works. “Those cats, huh? Just tell me where to find them.”

The pattern of sniffles shifts into a congested giggle. He rolls with the momentum. “I’m not joking, you know. Just ‘cause I don’t have my real powers doesn’t mean there aren’t  _ plenty _ of other ways to make a heart stop beating.” He  _ is _ mentally running through what potions he has available to inflict a grisly demise.

Hat Kid finally leans back, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Snatcher,” she laughs. “You’re being a dork.”

“Gross, you’ve got snot.” He takes the cold towel from the ice bag and rubs her face with it. She squeals at the temperature and swivels her head away to escape the cleansing. He snorts. “Will you hold still?”

Her laughter subsides quickly, and she drops her head down against his chest, but at least her breathing is steady again.

“Don’t blow your nose on my shirt,” he says, resting his hand on top of her head.

“I’m gonna now.”

“I’ll throw you out the window.”

“No you won’t. I’m still crying.”

Snatcher sighs. No he won’t. Damn kid. “You want to tell me what happened back there?”

She’s silent for a while, as if deciding whether he’s worthy to hear her answer. “I’m supposed to look out for her. I wasn’t paying attention just for one second, but I still was too slow.”

“You can’t be looking all the time. Just some bad luck.”

“What if it was worse, though? I could have stopped it if I just saw quicker!” She sniffles again. “It was my fault I couldn’t stop it.”

Snatcher bites his lip, staring hard through the viewport at the stars sparkling around the Earth. On the horizon, he catches sight of a shooting star. “Kid. Let me tell you from experience, if you start thinking about the what-ifs like that, you’ll go crazy.”

“What, like you?”

He musses her hair. “Yeah, brat, like me.”

“That’s scary. I don’t want to be that uncool.”

“Hey, watch it, or I really will toss you.”

She laughs and as she does, she clings to him tighter. “I’m just joking.”

Snatcher scoffs lightly and shakes his head. She curls up in his lap and nestles herself there more comfortably. It doesn’t take long for her to drift off, probably exhausted from the emotional ordeal. Well, he can relate to that too. Eventually, he rises with her tucked into a ball in his arms and carries her back to the bedroom.

Moonjumper is sitting on the bed with Bow, and they look up when he returns. At the sight of the sleeping Hat Kid bundle Snatcher is carrying, a fond smile spreads across their face. Snatcher returns the expression with an exasperated headshake. He deposits Hat Kid next to her sibling, and Moonjumper pulls the blanket over the two of them.

Snatcher drops down into a sit right there on the floor, resting his head in his hands. “Thanks,” he mutters.

The smile is still audible in Moonjumper’s voice. “Not bad yourself.”

_ Note to self: _

_ -...This isn’t just muscle memory...is it? _


End file.
